


Blue and Gold Amidst the Grey

by suburbandad



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003), Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Alfons works in a greenhouse, Brief mentions of Alphonse Elric but he's not present in this story, CoS spoilers maybe? But not really also, Edward hates the parallel universe, End of FMA spoilers, I tried to be historically accurate idk hopefully it works out, M/M, No one writes Edhei anymore so I took it into my own hands
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:01:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29678109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suburbandad/pseuds/suburbandad
Summary: Alfons works at a greenhouse and finds his life to be routine until a blond with golden eyes comes and visits. Edward doesn't fit in and thinks there is nothing for him in this colorless world until he sees haunting blue eyes.
Relationships: Edward Elric & Alfons Heiderich, Edward Elric/Alfons Heiderich
Comments: 6
Kudos: 7





	1. Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfiction in an incredibly long time. I wish Alfons Heiderich had gotten more screen time, but c'est la vie. I think this will end up being an 8 chapter fic by the time it's done.  
> Spoilers for the end of FMA if you haven't seen it and there may be spoilers for CoS if you haven't seen that either. I tried to be historically accurate where I could!

Alfons didn’t mind waking up before dawn, really, he didn’t. He often marveled at the quiet that the world was able to hold before the birds started chirping with the sunrise. He thought about how the period from twilight to dawn was where the universe held all of its secrets. That is, if the universe was a living entity and was able to actually hold secrets. Sometimes he had a hard time grappling those concepts of the scientific universe versus the Divine. He was a scientist at heart; he was always wanting to know the why and how of things and had spent most of his childhood doing experiments in the small yard his family was fortunate enough to have. His family had also been devout to God since before Alfons had been put on this Earth. Sometimes, Alfons felt like the two could work in harmony, and other times he felt like they were in opposition.

Alfons continued to muse on these thoughts as he got ready for work. He made his way downstairs and fashioned himself some toast, cheese, and an egg. Nothing outlandish; Alfons wasn’t that kind of person, really. When he had finished, he grabbed his coat and headed out the door.  
The sunrise had started to peak through. There was a rim of pink around the tree line that Alfons knew would continue to rise as he walked to work. The pink was an odd contrast to the grey that he was beginning to see from the snow and slush. Alfons fell deep into thought about the sky and what it would be like to be on the same plane as God and lost awareness until he blinked and found himself in front of his work.  
Though it wasn’t what he wanted to be doing with his life, he couldn’t deny the beauty the building held. The pay was decent as well, and he needed every last mark he could save for University. And, he supposed, there were worse places to work than the local greenhouse. The greenhouse was beautiful, long panes of glass on a brick foundation. The blue-green tint of the building made Alfons feel like he was entering a new world, for there was nothing quite like the greenhouse anywhere else in his town or the surrounding area. Even in the greyness that had overtaken the beautiful sunrise- what a pity, he thinks- the greenhouse stood out as a beacon of light and brightness. He found himself smiling as he entered the building to begin the day.

At the start of the work day, the first thing Alfons had to do was go and write down his time of arrival on a sheet of paper in the office. Then, he had to put his coat on a rack, because despite the winter outside, it felt like summer inside the greenhouse. Sometimes the combo of humid air and then immediately being hit with hot, dry air would cause him to cough, but he never thought much of it. After he got situated, he would check the watering schedule and the areas his boss wanted him to clean out and prune. Today, it looked like he had to water the tropical plants and sweep up the cacti room. Humid air to dry air. Great. He couldn’t wait.

* * *

Edward pushed the beans around his plate with more force than necessary. He wasn’t hungry, and he was damn near pissed at being forced to eat breakfast like a “normal family.” He felt himself snort at that thought. They would never be a perfect family. Not after… Edward didn’t even belong here.  
The sound of someone clearing their throat forced Ed out of his thoughts and forced him to make contact with the man across the table. Gate, he was so pissed at him. Edward raised an eyebrow at the man, challenging him to speak now that he had made Ed lose his train of thought. The man gave him an apologetic smile before speaking.

“Edward, how are you adjusting? You’ve barely eaten this week. I’m getting to be a little worried about you, son. How are your arm and leg doing? Do they need an adjustment?” Edward scoffed. “Son? What a laugh. You left me and Al before I came to this place, and now that I’m here you want to make amends and be a father? I don’t need you to be a father to me. I need to find a way home. A way back to Al.” He paused, not really wanting to talk about his limbs. “And no, they’re fine. They’re just sore from the cold sometimes, but I’m fine.” He sipped some coffee while his father continued to stare at him. He felt compelled to speak again under the scrutiny of Golden eyes that were a reflection of himself. “There is nothing here for me. I remember what happened at the Gate, Hohenheim. I was ready to sacrifice myself for Al. I was ready to die. Then I end up here, which feels like a fate worse than death. Not to mention, Envy is here, the bastard. On top of that, I can’t do my alchemy, I’m stuck with you, there’s no color here, and I’m seeing doubles of people back home everywhere I go!” His voice had gotten louder and more frantic after he mentioned Envy, and he felt sick to his stomach. He and Hohenheim never talked about the Gate. Every time in the last month that Edward had tried talking about Alchemy, about their world, about why the Gate put him here, Hohenheim either deflected the conversation or just gave him one of his wistful smiles and didn’t answer him. It was infuriating for Edward. And there Hohenheim was, giving him that same look, and Edward knew the conversation was going to be forgotten for the old man. He was surprised when Hohenheim started speaking to Edward. “I’m sorry you’re having a hard time, Edward.” Was that sympathy in his voice? “I know this world is different from Amestris. I know you’re having a hard time not using Alchemy and not understanding everything that is happening in this world. I, myself, am not sure where Envy is in this world currently. I’m sure one day he’ll show up to kill me.” A soft smile graced his face. “Until then, I suspect he is just as lost as you, unable to use his own abilities.”

His gaze hardened. “This world is real, Edward. These people have souls. They may look like ones from home, but they are autonomous all the same. I know you’re stubborn, so I don’t expect you to understand that right now. As for the color, I agree. This world is quite darker than home. I think I can remedy that for you, however.” By this point, Edward had been staring into his now empty coffee mug, and he raised his head to meet Hohenheim’s eyes. “But first, Edward, cut yourself some slack. You are assimilating into this world rather smoothly, if I say so myself. You learned Deutsch in a month, you’re adjusting to your prosthetics, and you keep reading. I think one of the only things you need is a positive reminder of home.” He stood up and made to grab his coat. “Fetch your jacket, I have somewhere to take you.”


	2. Glow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going up a little later than planned- I had midterms to study for and that took up most of my time. I also had to take a break from EdHei because I read almost every single EdHei fic on this website (no joke) and was so emotionally damaged my best friend put me on a limit of 1 EdHei fanfic a week.  
> I am back now though after listening to my EdHei/CoS playlists on 8tracks (!!!) and wrote some more content so here is chapter 2!

It had begun to rain from the time Edward spoke to Hohenheim to them getting into the car. His arm and leg hurt like hell. These prosthetics were nothing like the ones back home. These had a slight, almost imperceptible lag to them, whereas his old ones moved as if they were the extremities he was born with. The cars here were also different than back home, but again, only slightly. That seemed to be the curse of this world; mirror images with just a few distortions- not enough to be unrecognizable, just enough to make you stare a bit longer to figure it out. 

Hohenheim was pretty good at driving, the bastard. Edward still hadn’t quite gotten the hang of it, but to be fair, he didn’t really feel like getting the hang of much in this world. Edward blamed it on sometimes getting his directions confused (they just _felt_ different here, too, but how do you explain to other people that they are mirror images of another world and therefore, their directions are going to be different?) and the fact that Hohenheim was just good at, well, everything. He handled this Gate-mandated exile better than Edward ever had or wanted to. It almost upset Edward at how easily it seemed for Hohenheim to move on. He knew that his father had done it before- after all, he _had_ left Edward and Al just fine, hadn’t he?

Edward was pulled from his contemplation when he felt the car begin to slow. He looked through the window and felt his eyes widen at what was in front of him. The building was ginormous. Glass panels stretched into the sky, and Edward could see shadows of what looked like trees inside. Trees? Who would put trees in a building? He turned to Hohenheim, who was watching Edward take the building in. “What do you call this place?” Edward asked, German words still occasionally tripping him up. He and Hohenheim spoke Amestrian in their house, and while Edward had picked up basic German relatively quickly, the language still grabbed him by surprise. “It’s a greenhouse. They grow different species of plants inside and allow visitors to come and see. In _Deutsch_ it’s called a _Gewächshaus_.” Edward nodded, still taking in the outside of the building. Hohenheim tapped him on the shoulder, holding out some money for Edward to take. “It costs admission, so take this. I have to run to a meeting, so I’ll be back for you in a couple hours.” Taking that as his cue to leave, Edward grabbed the money, nodded his thanks, and stepped out of the car into the drizzle. 

The money exchange went well. He was greeted by an older woman who gave him a smile. Edward had a hard time making eye contact with her, because of course she had to look like Granny Pinako. God damn, he couldn’t catch a break. She gave him a small map that showed the different rooms he could go into, he muttered a quick, “ _Danke_ ” and hurried away from her. As he walked farther into the building, he fell deeper into thought of his other world, the people these doubles replaced. He missed Winry and her automail, her friendship, even her annoying overreactions. He missed his military partners; Mustang, Hawkeye, Havoc. He missed Al. _Gate_ , he hoped Al was alright. He hoped his sacrifice wasn’t for nothing. It couldn’t be, could it? The hell he found himself in currently had to be enough for Al to have made it back alright. He had to have saved Al. It had to have worked. Edward thought deeper to those he had lost. Nina, Hughes, his mother. He wondered what his mother would say to him now. Would she be proud of him for all he had sacrificed, or would she be furious that he and Al had given up everything by messing with the taboo? 

His mindless walking had led him to a room that was full of brightly colored flowers. He glanced at the sign. _Orchidee_. Edward walked in and took a deep breath to center himself. A soft scent of floral and dirt surrounded him, and he felt oddly comforted. The glass seemed to take the grey outside and turn it into brightness in this room. His mind felt clear. Honestly, Edward hadn’t felt this much clarity since when he was at the Gate. He reached out his hand and felt one of the flowers- should he have been doing that? He had no idea. It just felt right- it was soft and delicate in his hands. He remembered when he was like that, in his early youth. Before he had gone and changed everything with alchemy. Maybe this world had a silver lining of not having alchemy. That meant the only way you could screw things up was by the power of yourself, not alchemy. It felt incredibly humbling for Edward. 

After he had walked the length of the orchid room, Edward stepped back out into the center of the greenhouse. There were other people walking around and taking in the foliage, but Edward didn’t stare too closely. Who knew who he would see, what reaction he would make? He couldn’t go breaking down in public. It would be hard for Hohenheim to talk him out of a scene like that with the local business owners, and then the whole town would think he was crazy. Not that he didn’t already feel like he was going insane, but they didn’t need to know about his internal conflicts. He decided to walk into the _Sukkulenten und_ _Karkteen_ room. The hot air reminded him of the desert that separated Amestris and Xing. It was different from the orchid room, but not unwelcome. Edward had never seen plants like this before. There was a perfect contrast of harsh and soft. Some plants had needles sticking from them. Some were short and stout, others tall and sturdy. The softer looking leaves were pastels of green, blue, pink, and purple. Some were lanky and had leaves missing. Others seemed to grow wide and not tall. Some had flowers on them. The variance Edward was seeing was incredible. It was perhaps the most interesting scene he had witnessed since coming to Germany.

Edward’s good mood grew until he looked up at a figure at the other end of the room. He was standing and facing Edward, but he was holding a plant in his hand so he didn’t really _see_ Edward. And Edward was thankful, because he had never felt more certain that he was about to keel over and die than in that moment. They weren’t, they couldn’t be identical matches could they? No, Al would be shorter, right? And his hair was their mother’s brown color, before the accident. This figure’s hair was blonder than Edward. And his eyes weren’t gold, but Edward couldn’t tell if they were blue or brown. After thinking this, Edward realized that he had been staring, and went to turn and leave so he wouldn’t be caught. As he spun around, his coat caught one of the potted cacti. Edward heard the pot spinning against the concrete, and he lunged back and grabbed it. The needles went into his prosthetic, but it didn’t matter, at least it hadn’t shattered. And at least…

Dammit. The figure had heard the noise from the pot and had turned towards Edward.  
“ _Not what I need, not what I need right now._ ” Edward thought. “ _Please don’t come this way._ ” But it was too late. He started walking over to Edward. Edward was looking at his feet until he was staring at another pair of shoes, cactus needles still sticking into his prosthetic. He heard a voice say, “Do you need help with that?” And thankfully, he didn’t sound like Al. Edward took a deep breath, mustered a grin on his face and looked up, golden eyes meeting a haunting blue. 

* * *

Alfons felt the day crawl. Well, crawl was a bad word. It gave the impression that he hated his work day, and it was quite the opposite. He loved watching the patrons come through, the smiles on their faces throughout the greenhouse and as they left. He loved caring for the plants in the different rooms. Even though the change of humidity seemed to mess with his lungs, he could overlook it for the beauty each room had. The job wasn’t his dream job by any means, but it was enough to help him save up for university and the costs of the big city of _München_. It was his dream to go and study rocketry. Alfons himself wasn’t as interested in actually being in the rocket as he was making the rocket. He didn’t mind being on the ground and staying there. It was his dream to send other people into space and to talk about his research and eventually teach rocketry to other students. He could create a legacy for himself, immortalized in textbooks about advancements in physics and rockets. Alongside Newton and Galelio. He also couldn’t leave the Earth while his parents were still on it. He was all they had, and he had to be there to take care of them. He couldn’t believe that they were letting him pursue his dreams in Munich, but he supposed it wasn’t too far away, if he took the family car with him. The car was a luxury for them. Months and months of savings, and it was hardly used. Why would it be when his parents hardly left the house and he could walk to work. It was definitely more for emergencies than anything, but the security it brought gave him some comfort. 

Alfons was enjoying the humidity the tropical room gave him. He could typically spend a few hours in there, and the humidity was a gift to his lungs. He never felt more alive than when he was in the tropical room. The first time he saw it, he was blown away by seeing full size trees in a building. He had never seen anything like it before, yet there it was; trees, thriving indoors. The canopy created a scene of wonder. The exotic plants full of pops of yellow and orange, vines falling from trees, plants floating in water… it felt like a whole other universe. He spent his time pruning, sweeping, watering, and sweeping again. Always in that order- sometimes Alfons enjoyed a routine. The pruning was a do-it-as-he-saw-it chore. The time it took always ranged day to day. The sweeping took the longest. He had to get under the larger plants and sweep all of their old leaf casings and dead leaves away. Then he had to sweep the walkway. Then he watered the plants until water came out the bottom of their pots. The watering created the sweetest humidity; floral and sticky, he could feel it coating his lungs. While his lungs enjoyed a lovely tropical vacation, he did his final sweep. He always worked in silence, focusing only on the task and his breathing. Patrons would occasionally interrupt him and ask what plants which, but he didn’t mind answering them. It also delayed his exiting of the tropical room, and really, he should be thanking the patrons for letting him stay longer. 

He concluded his time in the tropical room by taking his bucket of cuttings and dead leaves to the compost pile outside. From a scientific view, he thought the compost pile was fascinating. Organisms feeding off of the dead and decay, only to produce a byproduct that could sustain plant life again. It was poetic. Alfons always wanted to be a part of that cycle when it was his time, but to not be buried in a casket would break his poor mother’s heart, should she outlive him. And if God and Heaven were real, and he wasn’t buried in a casket, he’d get an earful in the afterlife, that’s for sure. On his way back in, Alfons grabbed a broom and a dustbin and grudgingly walked to the _Sukkulenten und_ _Karkteen_ room. It’s not that he hated it- you’d never catch Alfons bad mouthing his job- but it just wasn’t the tropical room. Once he was in the driest air he had ever experienced in his life, Alfons began his routine again. There would be no watering this time, as the plants only really needed to be watered once a month, and he had done that two weeks ago. A shame. Alfons thought it really livened the room up. Sighing, he set to his tasks of sweeping, pruning, and sweeping again. The succulent room didn’t really need two sweeps if he was being honest with himself. He was going to make a mess pruning regardless, so one sweep at the end should have sufficed. Alfons would never admit that he did it to increase his hours. It was just that he _needed_ that money for university, and nothing was going to get in the way of him building rockets. As he began sweeping the walkway and under the plants, he hit a large patch of dirt with his broom, causing dust to fly up into his face. Alfons coughed, effectively ruining whatever euphoria was left from the tropical room. The gardener took a second to look around at the patrons in the succulent room and throughout the greenhouse- a perk of a mostly glass building was that you could see into the other rooms if the plants weren’t obstructing your view. Most of the visitors looked the same, nothing stood out as remotely interesting. Alfons started to turn back to his work when a flash of blonde caught his eye. He looked across the greenhouse. 

If the hair hadn’t been as bright as it was, Alfons would’ve missed him entirely. Wearing all brown, down to the trench coat (Odd that he hadn’t left that at the coat check, he must have been sweltering), he blended in with the roots and bark of various plants. But of course, the hair had to be a blonde- no, it was more of a golden color. And of course, it had to catch the light rays from the glass ceiling, and _of course_ , he had to glow like a god amongst the mere mortal greenhouse patrons. He was a stranger, though, and it didn’t matter what the first impression was for Alfons if he never saw him again. He could’ve stopped time and it wouldn’t have mattered; in fact, Alfons would’ve been quite irritated if time stopped and he was stuck in the succulent room. Shaking his head out of his thoughts, Alfons watched the stranger turn into the _orchidee_ room, and he took that cue to return to his work. Alfons forgot about the mysterious stranger as he worked in the dry heat of the succulent room. He was pruning now, and he needed thick gloves to work through the cacti needles and some of the sharper succulent leaves. He always had to be careful about what he pruned, because some plants leaked a thick latex material that was annoying to get out of clothes. He was so deep into his work and careful cutting and pulling and rearranging that he was drawn out with surprise when he heard the sound of terracotta spinning. It initiated a flight or fight response for him, because the last thing he wanted was to sweep up a broken pot. He looked up from the plant he was holding to see the stranger from earlier holding the pot he heard spinning and, dear God, was the cactus going into his arm?! He quickly set his plant down and walked over to the stranger, who appeared to be staring at his arm. “Do you need help with that?” He asked worriedly. 

The stranger looked up with a grin on his face, “Nah,” he said, a slight accent to his German. “I’m fine. I’m tough, can’t feel a thing, really.” The stranger laughed. “Oh,” Alfons said, confused because that was definitely a cactus on the stranger’s arm, and the cactus definitely had needles. “You sure?” The stranger responded by using his free hand to pull the cactus off his other arm. Alfons flinched when he noticed some needles were missing. This boy, he had to be around Alfons’ age, was really something else. “Do I just put it back where it was?” Alfons nodded, still a little out of it from the whole scenario of this conversation. “Yeah, that’s fine.” The stranger gingerly placed the pot back onto it’s ledge but stayed where he was, fidgeting a little bit. Alfons felt concern again. “Do you want me to look at your hand?” The smile came back onto the stranger’s face. “No, I’m okay, thanks though.” The stranger still looks a little weary, and Alfons was going to leave him alone until he found his hand sticking out in front of him and his mouth opening and saying “I’m Alfons Heiderich, what’s your name? I’ve never seen you here before.” The stranger stares at his hand- the opposite of normal, since it appears the stranger’s shaking hand is the one that has the needles in it- for a little longer than what Alfons would consider polite, before taking it with his non-injured hand and shaking it. “I’m Edward.” He says, eyes meeting Alfons’ again. “Edward Elric.”

Alfons would later deny it, but when Edward’s gold eyes met his blue, he felt the world stop, and this time he wasn’t upset about it.


	3. Pull

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward gets lost in his head as he compares and contrasts the two worlds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things:   
> 1\. This chapter is Edward POV heavy. Warning for anxiety/anxiety attacks towards the end, so caution while reading if that bothers you. Also end of FMA spoilers mixed in, but I feel like if you're reading this pairing then you've seen the end. It's also 1am, so there's that. I just really felt like writing.   
> 2\. I'm dedicating this chapter to Phantasma- if you see this your comments made my day!!

“So, when did you move here? Your accent gives you away.” Alfons asked curiously. He didn’t have a problem with it, in fact, he felt fascinated by the mysterious lilt that accompanied Edward’s voice. They had moved to a bench outside of the succulent room and Alfons’ lungs were singing high praises. He was captivated by Edward. Alfons seriously suspected that he was just on a whole other tier of mankind. He knew other Germans might be more apprehensive to delve into conversation with a foreigner, especially after the War and how bad Germany had been hit in their treaties, but Alfons prided himself in always giving people the benefit of the doubt first. Of course, his country would always be a top priority for him, but he didn’t see why he had to give up his humanity for it. Besides, something about Edward’s voice could make him listen for hours without complaint. Alfons was thrilled when Edward answered his question. “A couple months ago. I moved here with my father from…” He paused, like he was trying to remember the word. “Großbritannien.” Alfons thought that Edward looked proud that he had remembered where he had previously lived. He felt like Edward should’ve known that sooner, but Alfons wasn’t the one transitioning from English to German. “We’re around the same age, aren’t we? Do you want to go to University?” Alfons could’ve smacked himself. He didn’t even know if he was going to get into University, and here he was asking Edward about it. What if Edward thought he was pretentious? Was this time with Edward over forever?

Edward just looked at him for a second with his piercing gold eyes, like he was trying to get a read on what Alfons was really searching for. “Maybe. I haven’t really thought about it yet.” He held Alfons’ gaze for a moment longer before turning to the rest of the greenhouse. They sat in a comfortable silence as they watched patrons walk through the different rooms the greenhouse had to offer. Alfons was thrilled to be sitting next to someone as fascinating as Edward. He felt such a pull towards Edward from the minute he first spotted him. He would love to form a friendship with the golden-hair boy. His heart still clenched in his chest when he looked at Edward, but seeing as they had just met, he didn’t want to think too hard about it. It was probably just the thrill of having a new face to talk to. Seeing as Edward wasn’t making a move to leave the bench, Alfons felt himself relax into his seat and close his eyes, feeling the air enter and leave his lungs the smoothest it had all day. His breathing was even and calm, and he felt his limbs growing heavy and relaxing as he just listened to the peaceful sounds of the- “Alfons Heiderich! What do you think you’re doing?” A tenor voice rang out across the walkway. Shite. He threw himself out of the bench and purposefully put a good half meter between him and Edward. “Mr., Mr. Falmann!” He felt his fair complexion grow increasingly pinker as his boss stared at him. “Son, I’m not paying you to lounge around. You finished the succulent room?” Alfons nodded meekly. “Then go sweep up the orchids. When you’re done with that, go check the vegetables for bugs. Then, if there’s still time, come back to me to see if there’s anything else I need you to do before you leave.” Alfons nodded again, turning to Edward and giving him an awkward wave as he hurried to retrieve his broom and headed to the orchids, a hundred questions for Edward still swarming his brain. 

* * *

After Alfons’ abrupt departure back to work, Edward stood up from the bench and walked into the tropical room. He had been staring at it when he hadn’t been looking at Alfons. The humidity was a welcome feeling from the dry heat of the succulent room. Edward felt smaller somehow than he normally did but, damn he hated to admit it, Hohenheim was right. The colors did remind him of home. They reminded him of the flowers he used to conjure up for his teacher, for aunty Pinako, for his friend, Winry. God. What were they even doing right now? Did they know where he was? He was so far away from them, but it had to be done to save Al. Al. Al, who Edward felt like he had seen glimpses of in this… Alfons. He had also seen some of Winry, now that he thought of it. But this Alfons also had something that was his own, even though Edward knew all about doppelgangers. The longer he thought about it, the more his head spun. Edward felt himself fall backwards onto a bench- thank Gate this place seemed to have them everywhere. He felt overwhelmed, but what was new? It was so hard to acclimate to a world that was like his own and then had to throw wrenches in the most important details. For starters, Edward had never seen plants like this before. Maybe they were in Xing or Drachma, but they certainly weren’t in Amestris. Edward didn’t like the idea of there being physical unknowns in this world. He could deal with the history differences and the languages. He could barely deal with the doppelgangers, but he was trying his best. But to admit that this world had things that his home did not gave strength to the idea that it was an autonomous universe and not one that relied solely on Edward’s for it’s blueprint of what people looked like and how they should act. He knew that Hohenheim had told him that the fact of the matter was that this universe was an independent mass of energy- the two might have shared source material, but they could thrive on their own. Deep down, he knew Hohenheim was right. But Edward was still just a teenager- an older teenager, but he was still in his rebellious phase with his father. He didn’t want to take what his father told him at face value, he wanted to experience it himself.

Edward felt himself getting stressed out thinking about how he had two universes worth of knowledge in his brain but still made a damn fool of himself. He couldn’t afford a breakdown in public, so he stood up out of his haze and made his way to the door. Time passed quickly when he contemplated existence in this universe. He wondered if it was like that for it’s other inhabitants, or if they were immune to thinking about such things since they weren’t the ones who were strangers. Edward looked around the greenhouse and found that a majority of the patrons had left, and that all he could see were some workers and the front desk worker, the Granny Pinako look-alike, counting the register and flipping the signs to closed. Edward hurried past her and tried not to make eye contact as he pushed the doors open with both arms and stood outside for the first time in hours. He surveyed his surroundings and didn’t see Hohenheim’s car anywhere. “Figures.” He muttered under his breath. “The old fool never had time for me when he went on his adventures before, why would he now?” This was, Edward hated to admit, a problem. His directions were still messed up, and he had no idea how to get home on foot. He knew landmarks of where he lived- he lived next to a bakery and an office of some kind. Other than that, he couldn’t remember the street names or what direction he originally came from. Luckily for Edward, the greenhouse closed early afternoons, which meant he still had a good chunk of daylight to figure out where the hell he was. He was starting to formulate a plan of what direction to go towards and why when he heard a now familiar voice speak to him. “You’re still here?” Edward didn’t have to turn to know it was Alfons speaking to him, but he did so out of common courtesy. “Yeah, the old man must have forgotten about me.” Alfons’ brow furrowed in worry, and Edward held back a smile. “Want me to walk with you?” Alfons asked casually. Maybe he lived the same way, Edward wasn’t sure. “Alright, yeah. That’s great. Thanks.” Edward watched Alfons make the first steps in his chosen direction, and Edward let out a sigh. Thankfully he wouldn’t look like a total idiot- the way they were going must have led farther into the city. Alfons didn’t try to talk to Edward, which Edward found relieving. He wasn’t ready yet for an in depth conversation so soon after his trip down memory and abstract thought lane. Once they made it into the heart of the city, Edward found himself speaking before his mind had given the a-ok. “Want to walk around the market?” They could see it up ahead. The streets were busy, but Edward didn’t mind crowds. Faces blurred in crowds and he couldn’t see any lookalikes. The crowds felt like an ocean, the push and pull a calming mechanism for his feedback system. “Sure.” Alfons agreed, and they set off into the sea of people. They walked next to each other, and Edward found himself wanting to talk about himself with Alfons, wanting to see what the similarities were to Winry and Al inside of Alfons. “My old home didn’t have anything like this. Everything was more spread out. There were some street vendors every once in a while, but for the most part the shopping happened in the buildings. They also really only took place in the warmer months because no one wanted to deal with any cold.” He heard Alfons hum in acknowledgement, and he continued. “A lot of the people look similar, but I’ve read that’s common.” A lie, he hadn’t read that anywhere. The two boys continued to weave through the crowd, pausing to look at various vendors and smell the food and flowers they were offering. Edward found himself having a nice time; he wasn’t worried about not knowing how to get home, and he wasn’t worried about his home, or this universe, he was just enjoying the push and pull of the waves from the passing shoppers. He had almost forgotten that Alfons was with him (Edward was keeping track of him because he would have felt awful if he had gotten him lost) until he felt fingers brush against his and then grab hold.

He looked down. Alfons’ hand was in his. He was holding hands with Alfons. What trick was this? Why would the universe make him suffer like this? He turned and looked at the blue eyed boy against the grey backdrop of the city. Alfons wore an expression of worry. “I’m sorry, Edward, I was just about to lose you in the crowd and-” Edward interrupted him when he realized their hands were still clasped. Wrenching his wrist back (Alfons had the gall to grab his real hand, so he felt the heat pulsing in it, and it was messing with his head), he rushed out an excuse of “I need to go. My father is probably wondering where I am.” He would’ve bet all of his money though that Hohenheim was not home. It didn’t matter, he just needed to get out of there and away from Alfons’ stare. When Edward pivoted and disappeared in the crowd, he heard Aflons calling to him. He didn’t turn back, instead diving farther into the ocean that was the market and as far away from Alfons as he could get. “What was that? What was that? How could I be enjoying his company? He’s the lookalike of two of the most important people in my life, and I don’t even know if one of them is alive.” He was getting farther away from the crowds, but the blood was roaring in his ears and it was like he was still in the market. “What happened to Al after I died?” He sucked in a sharp breath. “Holy shit. I died. I fucking died. I died.” Edward knew this, but that didn’t make it easier to comprehend, especially since he was still breathing. Sometimes he hated remembering. “I died and Al brought me back. Al brought me back. What a bastard. He brought me back and I killed myself so he’d live. Who does that? Who even thinks about doing that?’ He was whispering to himself as he walked. He didn’t care who saw him. He just kept walking. Edward felt heat pulse in random spots of his body- the back of his neck, his elbow, behind his knee. He had a light sweat across his forehead and on his hands. He couldn’t breathe, but he knew if he stopped walking he’d be done for. The longer he thought, the more pronounced the pressure above his eyes became and the more insatiable the urge to start scratching at his hand became. Even though he felt weighed down from his thoughts, he could feel himself begin to disconnect from his body. He couldn’t see anything around him and could only feel the pressure pounding on him at every angle. He didn’t know what was happening, but he was pleading with the Gate to make it stop. Why add this to the suffering he was already enduring? He groped his way to what felt like a set of stone stairs. He felt his way to a seated position and curled himself in a ball and waited for sight and relief to return to his body. When his vision came to, he saw that he had ended up at a church alongside the riverbank. The sun was at the point in the sky where it would make it’s descent sooner rather than later. The church reminded him of Liore. It was faded, covered in water stains and dark spots from it’s age and weather. He could have sought refuge inside, but what was the point? He was sure that they would see that he had just had a mental break and either send him somewhere or exorcise him, probably. So he sat and watched the sun and tried to figure out where he was and how he was going to get home. Edward sat on the steps, the cold seeping into every part of his body, for some time before he heard the doors of the church open. He wanted to cry at who he saw exit. The Gate just loved sprinkling people from his past wherever he went, didn’t it? He was staring at Jean Havoc.

Of course, it wasn’t his Jean Havoc, but the stranger wore his face. Not-Havoc noticed Edward sitting on the stairs and moved towards him, joining him on the freezing stone steps. “What seems to be troubling you, young man? Why are you sitting on the steps instead of sitting inside?” Already, Edward knew this Jean had his differences too. He appeared to be more quiet and subdued here than in Amestris. Edward silently bet that it was from the war this country had recently fought. “I was just thinking about the past. This place reminds me of some of my old adventures I had with my brother.” Edward replies to him, changing his focus from Havoc to the sky that was turning a streaky orange. Jean Havoc’s clone gives him a once over before asking Edward, “Do you need a ride anywhere?” Normally, Edward was hesitant of strangers, but he figured that if Amestrian Havoc wouldn’t harm him, then this one wouldn’t either-probably. “Sure, I live near the bakery. I’m Edward.” They made their way off the steps and to Havoc’s car, which Edward couldn't tell if it’s a good one or not, seeing as he knew nothing about them. Once they started driving, Edward found the man’s aura of compassion to be so strong that he found himself spilling his guts. He told him how he couldn’t recall much of his surroundings from the marketplace to the church, or how he ended up there. He even told him about Alfons. “I ran away from my… friend.” Edward paused and took a deep breath. “H-They tried to hold my hand or something. I don’t know if there was anything behind it. But we just met today. I’m still adjusting from moving here. I’m not ready for relationships of any kind right now. And did I mention that we just met? You can’t just hold someone’s hand and have feelings for them right when you meet them, right? That’s not how reality worked back home. Maybe everything is different here. I can’t stand it.” By the time Edward finished talking, they were at his small apartment he shared with Hohenheim. It was a modest brick building they shared with other people that Edward hadn’t taken the time to meet (because if there were any lookalikes where he lived, he probably would’ve jumped out the window). Pastor, it turns out, Not-Jean but John was a pretty good listener. “Edward, it sounds like what you and your friend need is some time. I’m sure she’s a lovely girl,” Edward scoffed quietly, “but if you’re not ready, then you can’t rush it. Sometimes the best relationships come with time. Think it over, give it a week, see how you feel. If you ever want to talk again, you know where to find me.” Edward thanked John-not-Jean and exited the car and made his way through the door and up the stairs into their small apartment. Once inside, he grabbed some bread off the counter, half-heartedly giving it a few bites, before going to the bath and washing his hair. That always calmed him down, watching his hair darken and separate into chunks across his head. After he had towel-dried his hair, and mulled over John’s advice, he changed into some old pajamas and fell onto his bed. Despite the emotional rollercoaster he had been on, the most tedious task of the day hadn’t even happened yet- he still needed to remove his arm and leg, because for some reason he couldn’t sleep in them like his automail. Edward was exhausted. It had been the longest day of his entire life, and somehow that included when Winry had first attached his automail. At least then he had people, now it was just him in the dark room, illuminated only by the faint light of the ending sunset. He laid in bed, waiting for his mind to be pulled away to a place he could go where hands didn’t brush, doppelgangers didn’t exist, and he didn’t feel quite so lost and alone.


End file.
